He motioned for her to change the phone to her other hand and she did, letting the sleeve of her robe slide down until she was naked. The white robe lay in a crumpled pile at her feet.
His lips suddenly touched her inner thigh and she jerked.
“I’ve got to go,” she said to Michelle a little too brightly.
Joel looked up and there was a fire in his eyes. She needed water to stop this burning in her body. She needed Joel to stop before she could stand up no more. She needed Joel to keep going and never ever take his lips off her.
Michelle said, “What have you been doing? Have you sun-bathed? Met any nice guys since it's clearly failed with Doctor Joel?”
“Someone wants to use the phone,” Daisy rasped. Joel rose to his feet, his eyes never leaving hers. He lowered his lips to her skin, began to kiss her neck, down her shoulders, down to her breasts. He paused for a second, a torturous second, before his hands cupped them and his lips began the descent over the soft, white, plump flesh.
“Daisy are you alright? You sound odd.”
“I'll see you tonight. No, tomorrow. Whenever I get back.”
“Are you sure–"
She only just disconnected the call before she fell back against the wall. Her voice was shaky, barely audible as she whispered, “That's not fair, Benjamin.”
“When it comes to you, Daisy Miller,” he said as he gripped her wrists and imprisoned them against the wall and bought his lips down to hers, “there’s nothing fair about it at all.”
They spent the rest of the day and night in bed. They drank more wine, eat more divine room service meals, made more amazing love, and twenty four hours later they were on the plane heading back to New Zealand.
"Excited about the shop?" he said as the plane flew across the glorious green islands of the Hauraki Gulf, heading to the international airport.
She hadn't been thinking about her shop. It had been near impossible to sit next to Joel the whole flight back, and not think about the weekend. Every unforgettable second of it. Every heart stopping, mindblowing moment of it.
The shop. Focus. The shop. Your dream.
"More nervous excited," she said vaguely.
They touched down and once they had claimed their luggage, made their way out through the arrivals area.
Fortunately, it looked as if the national rugby team had just arrived in Auckland. Adults and school kids were there en masse waiting for their heroes, and Daisy and Joel avoided attention and headed straight out to the taxi ranks.
"So where to?" Joel asked Daisy as a taxi driver approached them, gesturing to his immaculate white car.
"Home." She looked up at him. "I guess."
Only she didn't want to go home. She wanted to prolong this dream a moment longer.
She wanted to stay with Joel.
His eyes gleamed. "Yours or mine?"
She breathed in. "Let's go to yours."
Chapter Ten
Forty minutes later, they were at his downtown apartment.
Joel had opened a bottle of red wine, given Daisy a tour, they'd toasted Mystery Date, and now Daisy was taking a shower to freshen up after the flight. Joel moved around the kitchen, defrosting slices of chicken and stir frying frozen vegetables.
He hummed, added more oil to the wok, his cell phone rang and he hesitated.
After seeing Burke and Vanderlay he was pretty sure the department was rife with the news he'd been gallivanting around Golden Grove with Daisy. No doubt bringing shame upon them all.
He glanced at the phone to see Kate's number on the screen.
He looked behind where he could hear the sound of the shower. He was about to let the message go to answerphone, when he changed his mind.
"Hey, sis." He gave the vegetables a stir and grabbed his flute of wine.
"So you're finally back," she said. "How did it go?"
Such an intensely personal question.
"Kudos to the network for getting Golden Grove as a destination," he said. "That place is something else."
"I was meaning, how did it go with Daisy?"
Yep. He regretted answering the phone.
"You're not ringing me to tell me how your unborn baby is?" he quizzed.
"Don't be daft. Did anything happen with Daisy?"
Daisy. "We had a pretty good time." He sipped his wine, glanced back down the hall to the bathroom, decided not to tell Kate that Daisy was in fact here with him. "Good weather. Good food. Good scenery."
She growled, "Oh for goodness sake, Joel Benjamin, that is not what I meant. Rob was pretty sure there was some spark between the two of you, especially the way you stood up for her to get the holiday. I heard all about that. Was there any spark?"
Oh yeah. There was spark and it had ignited. Over and over and over.
She went on, "Not that I thought there would be. I mean, Daisy, much as I adore her, well, she was never going to be your type."
He frowned. "What do you mean, she isn't my type?"
"Oh come on, Joel. Look at the girls you've dated over the years and look at Daisy. She's a shop assistant."
"She's more than that. She runs a business."
"Which, and I say this as one of her few loyal customers, is failing. Even I could see three months ago it was losing business, and I know she's got this plan to revamp it but who knows if it will work or not." She sighed. "Look, I'm just curious."
Since when had his sister been such a snob?
"I like her," he said. "She's..." She's Daisy. He thought back to the women he had dated. Not many, granted, but they'd been university graduates and brilliant. Christiane, of course, had been beautiful – if you called that dating. "You've got a point," he admitted. "I'd never have looked twice at Daisy if wasn't for the show."
"So you're admitting you like her?" She sighed. Heavily.
"Kate, why do I get the feeling this is about more than Daisy being as you put it a shop assistant. What's going on?" He reached for the bottle, topped up his wine.
He could feel Kate's hesitation down the phone line.
Finally, she said, "Okay, it is more than that and I almost hate myself for thinking it but I'm your older sister and I'm giving you some advice. Joel, you're not short of money with the family trust and I've seen this sort of thing before. So many times it's like a broken record. Some guy gets sucked in to helping out a girl going through a bad patch and ends up losing the lot."
He almost laughed. "Kate, are you for real?"
"Is this new business going to even work? She's clutching at straws. She went on Mystery Date to promote it because she's got no money for goodness sake, and you have. Just don't do something stupid."
He rubbed his forehead. "I appreciate your concern."
Actually, he didn't, but he went on "Daisy may not have the best business head. Even her sister is amazed she survived this long and yeah, she's in a precarious position." He wished he wasn't about to agree with Kate, but he had to. "But her customers love her. You love her. Yeah, her shop has a chance, a darned good chance, of failing. But she's got guts. Give her credit. She's following a dream."
"You're sticking up for her Joel and that worries me and I'll tell you why. You throw yourself into things. In to studying and getting your doctorate, into losing weight and keeping it off, into your work. You've never thrown yourself into a relationship before and I know you're a grown man and yes, I like Daisy and I admire what she's trying to do but... it worries me you'll get in too deep. That this shop will mean so much to her she'll do anything to keep it going."
She was right, of course. He'd never thrown himself into a relationship before. Had never met anyone he'd wanted to do that with.
"Quit worrying." Kate was a few weeks off having a baby and clearly there was some flawed maternal thing going on with her. Over and above her usual big sister 'concern.'
She was about to protest when he added, "Nothing is going to happen with Daisy and me."
Even as he said it, something lurched in his c
hest.
"So you say now," Kate grumbled. "I just always figured you'd go for one of your ancient history cronies, not someone like Daisy. You would be bored to death if you weren't with someone of your equal and Daisy isn't it."
His ancient history cronies? Just the thought. He had visions of himself turning into Burke and Vanderlay, married to the female equivalent, and he shuddered.
"I'll only date women with a minimum PhD." He winced at the pretention. Not to mention it was a lie.
"Finally, some sense. You know that's what you want, Joel. You need someone who will understand your drive. Your ambition. Your workaholic tendencies."
"And Daisy doesn't," he said flatly.
A creak sounded, and he swung around.
Daisy stood there, a navy dressing gown tied around her, a towel draped over her shoulders where her short, wet hair dripped.
She stared at him.
He murmured to Kate, "I've got to go. Talk later."
He disconnected the call and turned back to Daisy.
She hadn't moved. Her lips were pressed tightly together.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
She shook her head slowly. "So that's what you think."
He frowned. "What are you talking about?"
She took a step closer. "I heard what you just said. All of it."
He glanced at his phone. "I was talking to Kate."
Suddenly, something went cold in the air between them. What did you say, Benjamin?
Daisy said, "Business failing. You'll only date PhDs. Poor little gutsy Daisy, give her credit."
His mouth went dry.
"It was the most patronising bunch of crap I've ever heard." Her eyes flashed. "Not to mention you think my shop is a lost cause."
"How long were you standing there?"
"Long enough to hear what you really think."
Before he could answer, she spun, stalked back to the bathroom and pulled the door shut. He followed, banged on the door with his fist.
He swore under his breath. "Daisy, I can explain."
"I very much doubt it."
He grimaced. "You know Kate. She's concerned." He rubbed his hand across the nape of his neck. "She is concerned that I have a tendency to throw myself into things."
There was a long silence, then the door opened and Daisy stalked out. She'd thrown on her skirt and shirt with amazing speed but her hair was still wet.
"She shouldn't worry. I'm not worthy of you throwing yourself into. Not worthy. And by the way." She gestured to the kitchen. "You're burning your dinner."
Hell. He grabbed the wok off the element as Daisy collected her jacket.
"What are you doing?" he said.
"You figure it out, Professor."
"You're not leaving," he said.
She was struggling to put the jacket on, then she threw it down on the couch with frustration. She closed her eyes a moment. "Here's the thing, Joel."
She turned to face him. "I'm average. I'm an average person. Just average and sometimes, the school reports weren't even that generous. I never liked school. I hated study. It's just the way it is. To make it worse, I have two over-achieving sisters that I looked up to. It wasn't easy."
He was about to say he knew that feeling but he stopped. He'd felt below average on too many things growing up as well. Socially mainly. A social retard, he'd called himself after that dreaded date. He'd resisted being set up for months and then it had happened and it had been an epic fail. Not that he remembered much about it but he'd woken up after sleeping off the hangover and he vaguely remembered Daisy.
The truth was, though, that what he remembered the strongest was sitting at that restaurant, on a blind date where his date didn't show. Left to feel like a loser.
"Did I ever tell you about my marriage?" she said suddenly.
"A bit. You told me there was the guy who went down to be a muso in Dunedin, and the doctor."
"Yes. Lionel. He was an anesthetist." He waited.
She shrugged, "It turns out there was a part of me, a big part, that wanted to marry someone like that. Like a doctor or a lawyer. A professional. My older sisters had. I felt they never thought I'd do better than Dave. He was a motorcycle courier driver," she added. "They never thought I'd land someone like a doctor and it's old fashioned to think like that, I know, but that's how I grew up."
"So you married the doctor." He had no idea where this was going.
"I did. But the thing is, I was never Lionel's equal."
He frowned. "How so?"
"He was very intelligent. He wasn't quite MENSA smart but all his siblings were. And his parents."
He still wasn't sure where this was going and that anyone actually gave a toss about this sort of thing but clearly it had mattered to Daisy. And Lionel. He let out a breath. "Go on."
"In a way," she said, "he was the same as me. He felt inferior to his family. Lionel was surrounded by brilliance and genius and he never felt as good as them. He was a straight A student. He was runner up to dux of his high school. But he still felt inferior."
A sick feeling, a premonition, began to settle in Joel's stomach.
She took a deep breath. "Lionel told me, when we'd been married a year, that the reason he loved me was because I was..." She shrugged. "Because I was only average. Not academic material."
The sick feeling in his stomach congealed.
Daisy went on, "He didn't call me dumb as such. But he'd dated girls when he started university and he'd realized he could never be with a woman smarter than him. When he was with me, he knew that was never going to be a problem." She looked away from him and he saw her chest rise, then fall with a deep breath. "He knew how I felt about my family, that I felt like he did. Inferior to them."
"But you're not inferior to them," he said. Shit. Shit. She wasn't dumb, she wasn't stupid. She wasn't inferior.
Yet clearly, deep down, she thought she was. He saw it now, saw it in the self-deprecating comments.
"You're wrong about yourself," he told her firmly.
She shook her head slowly, a barely-there smile curling her lips. "I'm not someone who can study and get a couple of degrees. I can't discuss what's happening in the world. I read quilting and beading magazines and not the business pages."
"That's general knowledge." He felt his voice rising but felt powerless to stop it. "Daisy, anyone with a good memory can read the papers and remember enough to hold a decent conversation. I've tutored students who earned degrees based on memory with barely any understanding of the subject. It pains me to admit it but it's the truth. Daisy, what you are saying isn't relevant. It's memory not intelligence."
She shook her head. "But it is. And I'm not saying you're anything like Lionel."
He felt something fall over him, shroud him. Chill him.
"I think that's exactly what you are saying," he said quietly.
She looked straight at him. "I'm so wrapped up in my shop now. It means everything to me. It's not just a thing, it's who I am." She opened her arms up wide. "It's me. And I know what you think about the shop. I heard you just talk disparagingly about it."
"Maybe I just don't like pink. I'm a guy. I don't even have a pink tie." What the hell was he saying?
He buried his head in his hands as he felt something slip away from him. Felt Daisy slip away from him.
In all his adult life he had never felt like this about a woman, never felt that his heart would be broken if this didn't work out. That it would be shattered beyond repair. Beyond anything that could possibly be fixed.
He went to her, put his hands on her shoulders, and she didn't flinch, didn't push him away and hope began to swirl. "Look at me, Daisy, and believe me. I like you. I like you a lot. Maybe I even love you. I don't know. But you are coming to mean so much to me. So darned much and I can't let you go like this. I can't let this weekend just end like this."
"And I can't risk losing everything," she said quietly.
With a jolt, he knew what she meant. W
hat she had left of her esteem. He saw that now.
He said, "Don't penalize me based on the past. It's not fair on either of us. Don't penalize me because my sister wanted to talk about your business because she thinks its going down the toilet and doesn't have a clue herself how to save it. Don't drop this - this thing we've got just because..."
Just because what? Because of what he'd said? The thing was, he'd said the truth. He'd spoken the truth. He hadn't lied. It would be easier if he had lied. But he hadn't.
Daisy hadn't misheard.
"Daisy," he said. "Don't."
"I'm getting a taxi home."
She took her suitcase, pulled out the trolley handle, slung her jacket and her purse over her shoulder.
"This is crazy." He clenched his fists as frustration rose sharply inside him. "Don't be so selfish about this."
She didn't answer and he felt part of him begin to tear slowly away and he said, "Daisy, listen to me and don't be so darned stupid."
Too late, he realized what he said.
Too late he watched in horror as Daisy gave him one last look, her face resilient and tough. Accepting.
Too late, he watched as the only woman he had ever fallen in love with, walked out the door.
He stood still. Silent.
He waited.
And waited.
He ached to fling back the curtains to see if she was climbing into the cab at the rank on the street, or coming back to him. Prepared to give him a chance.
To overlook what he'd said. Stupid.
He waited five minutes before he blinked, and looked around.
She was gone. Even the scent of her that minutes ago had filled the room had gone as if she'd never been here.
He grabbed his glass of wine, took a sip and then, with a single violent curse, threw the glass at the door and watched as it shattered into fragments on the wooden floor.
Chapter Eleven
Daisy gave the taxi driver her address and managed to hold back on her emotions until the car was well away from Joel’s apartment and heading across town toward Poppy’s.
She fumbled around in her bag to find half a packet of tissues. She pulled one out and blew with such force the taxi driver winced.
Second Chances Boxed Set: 7 Sweet & Sexy Romances in 1 Book Page 76